


It is silent in the forest

by Anachronistic_Cat



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Original Work
Genre: Gen, Horror, POV Second Person, atmospheric horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23378206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anachronistic_Cat/pseuds/Anachronistic_Cat
Summary: It is Silent in the Forest.an atmospheric horror story I wrote for English class. lovecraft inspired
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	It is silent in the forest

It is silent in the forest. The sudden lack of noise is jarring in comparison to the bustling town outside. The voices of the marketplace, of children running and shrieking is drowned out by the darkness. It is silent in the forest. That is a fact. 

It is a silence so utter and complete that it seems not like the absence of noise, but an entity in and of itself. How can you know that it’s not? It is a silence so complete that you can barely hear your own breathing. So silent, that thoughts seem to be ringing shouts. It is silent in the forest. You are alone in the forest.

You are all alone in this forest. There is no one around. It is the kind of alone so utter and complete that you feel like someone is watching. There is no rustle of the leaves, there is no growl from the undergrowth. Merely the thought of one. The sensation that there may have been, once. It is silent in the forest, and you think, maybe, just maybe, it is because you are unwelcome here. 

You have been told, by signs and people, that the forest does not belong to the humans. You have been warned to turn back. You did not listen. You never listen, do you? But here. Here in the forest you can do nothing but listen. Listen and listen and listen and listen and listen. But there is no response excepting the vague sensation that you are being watched. It is silent in the forest, after all.

It is silent in the forest and you could change that. You could talk. You could laugh, you could joke. Sing, shout, scream, rant, rave, roar, speak, lecture. You could lecture. You always were good at that. So firm in your beliefs, that you were right, your way was right, and that you could go anywhere, do anything, because Your Way Was Just And Here’s Why. But that’s why you’re here isn’t it? Because you are always right and the locals couldn’t possibly know. They warned you to stay away from the forest, and you didn’t listen. Did you never wonder if there was a reason they were afraid? It is silent in the forest and you could change that. 

But you won’t. The feeling of being watched. The feeling of thousands and thousands of eyes watching you that won’t quite go away despite the reassurances you think. It stays your tongue for fear that whatever watches from the bushes and trees and shadows will take notice of you. It is still silent in the forest.

It is silent in the forest and an uneasiness rises in your stomach. It writhes and chills your spine and you deny it. Such fear is irrational after all. There is nothing in this forest, it is silent. Your denial and platitudes do nothing to relax the firing of your instincts. And You Forget. Instincts exist for a reason, honed for centuries to keep you safe and you ignore them. And you hear laughter. 

Or you do not hear the laughter. It floats at the very edges of your perception. It is an almost sound, the shadow of a noise. It is silent in the forest, you know. Your fears rise again and they try to warn you, but instead you rationalise; the village children had been playing quite loudly, after all. Ignoring the memory of how even when you were closer to the entrance of the forest They Could Not Be Heard. You squash down those unpleasant thoughts. You are a being of logic, a rational person. There is nothing here. It is silent in the forest.

It is silent in the forest. But silence doesn’t mean that nothing moves. You see a shadow dance and flicker through the corner of your vision. You turn towards the motion and Nothing is there. Shadows move around you as you walk on through the silent forest.

It is silent in the forest. The feeling of being watched increases, an air of anticipation. You had the sense to stay on the path. One point in your favour, but just how long will that last? You move closer to the center of the path, and your footsteps crunch in the gravel. Except they don’t. It is silent in the forest.

You are deep deep deep in the forest now. The trees stretch overhead, and their branches block out all light from the sun. Unless they don’t. Is the sun still out? Or has night fallen? Or is it simply the shadow’s depths? How long have you been walking in the forest? Do you even know? You started this morning, right? You must have. You haven’t stopped to rest yet. You’re barely tired. It’s only been a few hours. Hasn’t It? You stop walking to check your watch. You check your watch and it is silent in the forest.

It is silent in the forest and your watch has stopped. Stopped stopped stopped. Stopped at the time you started on this trek. Stopped at the second you fully and irreparably discarded all warnings given. Stopped at the exact second you tossed aside the protective charm they tried to give you. Stopped at the exact second minute hour day month year that you set foot in the forest. There is no way to know how long you’ve been here. The shadows move. It is Silent in the forest.

It is Silent in the forest. Silent so so so so Silent. And the Silence is so utter and complete it feels not like the simple silence that you’ve known. Not a calm absence of talking, with background noises. Not the quiet peace of being without sound in your home at night. No. This Silence is so deep, so utter and complete, that there is hardly a word to describe it. Silence barely does justice to this Lack Of Noise. And it is far far more than that. Far more than simply a Lack Of Noise; the Silence is alive. It is alive and it smothers out all noise it is alive and dark and terrifying. This eldritch entity that is the Silence of this forest. The Silence has taken on a malevolent, terrifying tinge. And it is Silent in the forest. 

The malevolent aura and terrifying air does nothing to dissuade your intrusion, and you realise that it had been there all along. And you laugh. Because this is silly of you. Silence can’t be alive. You are just a little jumpy from the stories of the villagers. All fake of course. You Know This. And you forget that all stories have some basis in fact, and maybe it was not a story, but a warning. You didn’t actually laugh, by the way. You are in the forest after all. And it is Silent in the forest

It is Silent here, and you are standing still. Standing still in the forest. You Are Being Watched and the watcher’s presence is increasing. Getting closer to where you are and you Have Been Found. It is Silent in the forest.

You start walking again. That tingle on the back of your neck has changed. No longer is it simply the feeling of being watched, but Followed. And the one who follows you knows that you can feel its presence. It knows that you try to rationalise it away and it Knows that you will not be able to. It is not a being of logic or rationality, and your decision to be one has no bearing on its existence. It is far older than you will ever be. And far older than you ever would have been had you not decided to come here. But who knows. Maybe you’ll get out. You walk faster through the forest. The forest where it is Silent.

It is Silent in the forest. It was silent when you entered, and it was silent when you walked. It was silent when you stopped and Silent when you were found. It was Silent when you walked again, and now, it is Silent when you continue. You walk faster and faster and faster and faster through the Silent forest. Faster and faster and faster until you are running. Running at top speed trying to escape; all rational thought finally fled from your brain. Your instincts finally win out. Instincts firing like millions of bolts as the watcher, the shadow, the follower gains and gains and gains. And you listen. You listen to them now. To the warnings they gave. You listen, but as always it’s too late. It is Silent in the forest. 

It is Silent here as it always was, and shall forever be. It is Silent in the forest. And you run. You run and you run and you run. Feet pounding hard on the gravel path. And you tell yourself you are Safe. Safe for as long as you stay on the path. But it is too late for that. And you run. And you run. Run run runrunrun. Your legs ache as your feet pound hard on the gravel path, pounding and pounding without any noise, because. It is Silent in the forest.

And in this Silent forest. Deep within. Time unknown. In the center of the path you finally collapse. There is no way to know how long, how far it’s been. No way to know how long, how far you walked. No way to know how long, how far you ran. Days and kilometers? Or naught but minutes and feet. No way to know, how long you lasted. It is Silent in the forest.

It is Silent in the forest. And that Silence gets inexplicably deeper than it was ever before. So so deep. So deep that it eats away at your thoughts, and shrouds your heartbeat. And you are caught. The watcher, the shadow, the follower, the Hunter. It now can feast. It is Silent in the forest. 

It is Silent in the forest, and you now know. You know that all stories have a basis in fact. You know there’s a reason the villagers avoid the forest. But most of all, now you know that it is Silent in the forest, not because you are unwelcome, but because you are wanted. But as well, you now know: you can be wanted, and still Should Have Never Come. It is Silent in the forest.

Silent here as the Silence eats. And the Silence eats the screams of your throat. And the silence eats the snap of your bones. The Silence eats my slobbering growls as your hubris lays you low. The Silence eats my laughs and tears. The Silence eats the rustles of the underbrush as I, the Hunter, the follower, the shadow, the watcher, return to my waiting. And I watch and I wait for another to disregard all warnings, to throw away the protective charms. I wait for another fool to come. And it is silent in the forest.


End file.
